Cementing the line
by Aguna
Summary: Summary: Sequel to 'where is the line', Dick killed a secound time in self-defence, this time in Gotham...
1. Chapter 1

Cementing the line

Disclaimer: not mine

Summary: Sequel to 'where is the line', because there was this review today and it got me writing^^

Dick sighed, " this isn't about me having a metal break down, this is about disliking the colour orange. Officer Grayson killed someone in the line of duty and makes a call...

* * *

"It is simple", says the oily voice, "either you kill me or I leave, take the money and blow this whole fucking building up anyway."  
Twisted amusement shines from dirty brown of an equally dirty man. A robber playing the old game of informing the cop how useless he and his moral principles are, just to get his own superiority as an outlaw acknowledged.

The people inside the bank cower in fear, making it all the more exhilarating for their captor.  
And this in broad daylight in Gotham on his way to a fund-raising event he was told to attend. Dick feels his mood worsen. He was, as always, expected to behave perfectly so the behaviour of his brothers could be excused as teenage rebellion and not the resultant of Wayne's skills as a parent.

"You will kill us either way?", he asks calmly with a neutral smile on his lips and warm yet calculating eyes. He knows the answer and what he will do as a consequence, it should bother him but it doesn't. It is all Slade's fault.

"Yes I think I will", the robber mocks, his voice high as if drugged by the fear he is causing and he breaks down into a fit of giggles.

There is a pause, the sound of a gun fired and Officer Grayson goes to the fresh corpse to receive the trigger.

The people stare at the corpse and the still smiling cop, that the threat is gone doesn't feel comforting, if anything they feel more fear and they don't understand why...

Sirens howl as the police arrives, the young cop gives them the trigger and enters the back seat of one of their cars, the place for criminals.

The daylight makes it hard to see the shadow of the Batsymbol in the sky.

* * *

There a things Officer Gordon never thought to see. Dick Grayson smiling after having killed someone didn't even enter his mind.  
The child, no matter how old the young man might be he is still younger than his Barbara so for him he will always be a child, looks sane, it isn't a comforting realisation.  
They listen to the story from different witnesses, it comes down to this:

A robber takes a bank and it's customers hostage with bombs and a trigger, Officer Grayson, who had been inside the bank in uniform, killed the robber.

"May I make my call?", speak of the devil. Dick stands behind him, when did the boy move and learned to do it so silently? It is a polite question and he nods, unable to form words.

He takes a special mobile-phone from the office, it might not be legal but with this they can track the number and listen to the whole conversation. There is just something horrible wrong with the situation.

Dick tips a number, they don't have it registered as Wayne's.

"I think I need a lawyer", says Dick easily, no greeting, is this a normal occurrence?

Officer Gordon goes back to the office to give the illusion of privacy and listens.

"Did you cross the traffic light by red?", comes the amused reply of an older man.

"Actually I killed someone", answers their captive in the same tone as before.

"If your parents could have saved their lives through killing Tony Zucco", starts the other in an authoritative voice but gets interrupted by the younger man.

"If your parents could have saved their lives through killing Tony Zucco, would you blame them? Demand they die as innocents and leave their son as an orphan behind? Would you blame them for saving their life? Would they blame you for saving you own?" His voice gets a slight sing-song quality, like a child being remained for the Xth time to be back at home at 10pm.

"I know", Dick sighes"this isn't about me having a metal break down, this is about disliking the colour orange."

There is a pause and than a deep chuckle," you have no taste in colours", mocks the voice not unkindly."I will handle everything", is added in a soft parental tone. "Don't speak unless you need to and get some rest."

"I know", no thank you for the help, as if Dick is simply acknowledging a fact, and ends the conversation.

"Thank you", for a moment Officer Gordon is startled, the boy stands at the door of his office and gives him the mobile-phone back.

He can't help himself, he has to ask.

"Are you all-right?"

"If my parents could have saved their lives through killing Tony Zucco, I wouldn't blame them. They wouldn't blame me for saving my own."

The words are occupied by a sad smile and a far away look in his eyes.

A rewording of the older man's words and if he knows anything, than that this whole mess is all his fault, figures the old cop.


	2. Chapter 2

Summary: Dick killed once in self-defence, the 2. time it happens in Gotham.

Disclaimer: not mine

* * *

So much for the cold-hearted killer.

Officer Gordon watched as their killer sat on the coach, clutching the glass of water in his left hand and knees drawn up to his chest encircled with the right arm. The dirty shoes carefully not touching the seat, a foetus position in self-protection while still making sure to keep the coach clean.

Dick didn't seem like a cold-hearted killer now, that was sure and it wasn't an act either.

As nice as it was to be wrong as complicated can be the consequences.

Main suspect, the nameless man on the phone who somehow managed to get his boss cower in trained obedience with a call. His first instinct was to lighten the Bat-signal again. Whenever this was corruption or something else, it was still wrong so why not get their caped crusader involved?

The problem was to pinpoint the problem.

Blackmail? Always a possibility.  
Brainwashing? It would explain the seemingly erratic behaviour, but how did the boy get into a position where he could be brainwashed to begin with?  
And than? Where did their mysterious man come into play?  
Why would anyone wish to turn Dick into a killer?  
To hurt Wayne?  
Yet Wayne wasn't known to read anything but the headlines, if someone wanted to hurt it would to make the headlines and this was kept rather discretely.  
Blackmailing Wayne seemed also out of question, if anything it would be blamed on the evil Romania blood, not him.

A crime needed a motive and he just couldn't see one.  
Why would anyone in their right mind want to turn Dick into a killer?  
Was their culprit insane?  
Possible, but the lack of erratic behaviour and efficiency this was handled rather unlikely.  
The motive must be something personal.  
Personally wanting to turn Dick into a killer?  
It felt logical but thinking about it?  
What kind of mess was this?

He sighed, if Dick really had been so cold-hearted, crossed a line this would have been the end to it. Not a nice one, but still a simple case of a cop seeing to much and losing some humanity as consequence wasn't that uncommon. Still the boy wasn't that long a cop and didn't seem mentaly weak as a child...  
There was something bigger going on, he just knew it but what?

Heavy footsteps sounded through the building and he and his fellow Officers looked to the source.  
A tall muscular man with white hair and only one eye walked through the halls as if he owns the building. If the reaction of his superior was anything to go by, than this was their mysterious caller.

Out of the corner of his eyes Officer Gordon saw that their captive is still unaware of the newcomer, to caught up in his own mind, starring into nothingness.  
The man moved straight towards Dick neither acknowledging the curious looks nor the attempts of his superior to gain his attention.  
He stopped before Dick, who was still lost in his mind.

"_Hei_", the word was said in a surprisingly soft voice and finally the boy looked up, fear and confusion crowding his bright blue eyes. A greeting?

"_Cosmar_?", Dick asked still confused with an edge of hope, wasn't the word nightmare?

A slow sad shake of his head was the answer he received," Dick", this time the tone was authoritative, " you saved a lot of people today, including yourself", the last two words were spoken with more force, as if it was an old topic.

"_Da",_ was the soft reply, 'yes' wasn't it? It didn't seem convinced, as if saving his own life wasn't worth much, what the hell happened with the child?

The man exhaled slowly, angrily? If he was the bad guy why would he care about Dick's life?

His posture carefully relaxed and he asked neutrally , "How many shoots did you need? Two or three?"

"One", Dick's tone changed from lost to offended and his eyes started to focus on the older man.

"Where did it hit?", still neutral with a hint of professional curiosity.

"Between the eyes and the bullet went straight to his brain", the child relaxed. This gets him to relax?

"Why there?", is asked in the same way as before.

"A short, clean death", is spoken as if answering a mathematics test.

"You hadn't wanted to make him suffer?", a big hand found it's way on Dick's right knee, carefully pressing it down and the boy relaxed out of his foetus position into sitting normally.

"I wanted him to stop endangering the people and he decided to play the old 'a cop doesn't kill to save others' game with me." Dick's tone changed again, from neutral to tired, as if it was an everyday occurrence. Rookies shouldn't have a tone like this...

"Why didn't you play?", the hand moved from the knee up to his chin and forced Dick to look into the others single grey eye.

"I had to?", uncertainty corrupted into his voice and a hint of fear in his eyes, as if afraid of his own conclusion.

"A man who raises his weapon gambles with life and should always be prepared to lose his own", replied the other with unquestionable authority in his voice.

"_Da", _answered Dick after a moment of silence and closed his eyes while leaning into the older man's touch.


End file.
